


May God defend me from my friends

by BakedAppleSauce



Category: Trust (TV 2018)
Genre: Introspection, Leo and Primo get it on, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, The End, don't ask me why this exists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27420091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakedAppleSauce/pseuds/BakedAppleSauce
Summary: Primo was demanding in a way Leonardo should have seen coming, but didn’t.In which there is sex and bickering and the questioning of some life choices.
Relationships: Leonardo/Primo Nizzuto, Leonardo/Regina (Trust)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 160





	May God defend me from my friends

Primo was demanding in a way Leonardo should have seen coming, but didn’t. 

Looking back, he wasn’t even sure what he expected. It wasn’t the first time Leonardo had done things with another man, though the last time was ancient memory at this point. It was however the first time anybody had bothered to make a big production out of the entire act, which… shame on Leonardo, really, for being surprised. Primo made a big production out of buying cigarettes, and pumping gas, and putting on his jacket every morning, so it should have been uniquely predictable that he’d try to order Leonardo around in bed. 

It was one area Leonardo felt free to ignore him every now and again – not just argue with him, try to make him see sense, but flat out ignore him and the orders he was trying to give. Primo noticed, of course, but he didn’t seem to care. It seemed fairly obvious that _if_ he minded, Leonardo would have known about it by now, one way or the other. 

Sleeping with him was terrifying. 

Not the act itself, most of the time, even though they’d had their moments, but the fact that this was a thing that was… _happening._ Ongoing. Leonardo was somewhat certain that he didn’t have to feel obligated… _didn’t_ feel obligated, as a matter of fact, the way he felt obligated to do a lot of other things for Primo and because of Primo as well. 

Most of the time, he tried very hard not to think about it too much. 

Kept inviting Primo over for dinner instead, and Primo kept showing up more often than not. He never arrived empty-handed and he always looked extraordinarily pleased with himself. Regina took his presence in stride. She had no qualms about asking him to help set the table, which made her braver than every single man in an eighty kilometer radius as far as Leonardo was concerened. It should have been unthinkable and somehow it wasn’t. Primo slinked around their new kitchen and their new dining room, put down dishes and helped clear the table without protest, making snide little comments, but he did it all the same.

He’d never asked if Regina knew. Leonardo couldn’t tell if that was because he didn’t care, assumed he knew the answer already, or honestly didn’t want to know. Depending on the day, one seemed more likely than the other. 

“What are you _doing,”_ Primo said now, sounding annoyed. 

He looked displeased in a way that was mostly harmless, as fine a line as it was before it crossed into something else. Like this, he had an almost royal air about him, Leonardo thought, for all that he was flat on his back, with a pillow stuffed underneath his hips – a king accepting his dues. Leonardo couldn’t quite explain it. The position should have been undignified, should have seemed vulnerable at the very least; but Primo took it and, like everything else, made it _not_ so. Made it his own. 

“What do you think I’m doing,” Leonardo panted back. 

It almost, _almost_ felt like having a simple argument with him, in the car, in the office, over dinner; almost felt like the usual bickering instead of fucking. Except they _were_ fucking, of course, with Leonardo balls deep, buried inside of him, so it was entirely and _undeniably_ different. If nothing else, the arguing should have been fucking distracting. It definitely shouldn’t have added anything, but for some godforsaken reason, it made Leonardo flood with heat, each and every time. He shifted around, got his knees under him more, which was what he had been trying to do in the first place, and rolled his hips again, grinding against Primo more than anything. 

Primo exhaled loudly at the change in angle, not quite caught off-guard, but close.

“Yes?” Leonardo said. 

“That’s it?” Primo said flatly, his unimpressed tone a stark contrast to the way he looked, the way his body reacted, and probably well aware of it as well. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“It _is,_ yes, believe it or not,” Leonardo said, pulled almost all the way out and pushed back into him slowly, as hard as he could manage. Could feel Primo’s legs tighten around his waist, which confirmed that it felt good. They’d been at it for a while at this point, so there was not much resistance left, everything slick and easy. 

_Fucked open,_ Leonardo thought, the mere thought of it making him shudder. 

“Not there,” Primo panted, sounding irritated. The running commentary might have been unwelcome in any other context, but for some reason, like this, all it did was make Leonardo feel fond. “Don’t just- _hhnn-”_

Leonardo watched his eyes flutter shut. Couldn’t help but rasp, nonsensically, “There we go, huh,” and Primo opened one eye to stare at him again, but he didn’t even bother to try and deny it. 

They’d found a rhythm now, one that clearly worked for Primo. Leonardo knew, he could fucking _tell_ by now – knew what Primo looked like when he was enjoying himself, knew what he looked like when something was going to make him come… and when the fuck had _that_ even happened. 

“Fuck-” Primo managed, moving with him in the limited space he had. “Fuck me, _come on,_ what the fuck are you waiting for-” like Leonardo wasn’t already putting his back into it. He still refused to go any faster than he already was for no reason other than he felt like it. This wasn’t just about what Primo wanted. He’d survive.

Leonardo bent down and kissed him, close-mouthed and almost formal, didn’t even know why, maybe as a distraction. He could feel Primo shift with him instinctively, going with the movement, sinking down into the bed, legs clamped around Leonardo’s waist like a vice. 

“You want to go first?” Leonardo said, which earned him a derisive sound that might have started out as a laugh. Primo didn’t much care for being cared for and tended to sneer at most attempts Leonardo made. Leonardo didn’t mind. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have minded much at this point, because this was _Primo_ and Leonardo had been fucking him for a long while, listening to him make truly pornographic noises that might have been a careful performance, might have been actual pleasure _disguised_ as a performance. Leonardo wouldn’t put either one past him. 

“What is this, fucking Romeo and Juliet?” Primo said, but he seemed amused. 

“Stop telling me what to do, then,” Leonardo said, which earned him an honest to God eye-roll, like Primo was all of seven years old. It would have been more impressive if his face hadn’t been flushed pink since they started doing this, Leonardo thought. It was endearing, really, something entirely out of his control that humanized him in some strange way.

Primo didn’t answer. Reached for him instead – for a long second Leonardo’s sex-dazed brain thought he was about to wrap both hands around Leonardo’s neck, which probably should have alarmed him and didn’t, and in the end, Primo didn’t either. Cupped the nape of Leonardo’s neck with both hands, palms cradling the sides of his face. The gesture was very deliberate, like he was going to make a threat or maybe give some sort of pep talk, but of course he did neither. Just stared at Leonardo with heavy-lidded eyes, looking completely out of it and terrifyingly alert at the same time. 

Leonardo put most of his weight on one arm, trying to keep his rhythm steady, and reached for him with his free hand. It still was a thrill to touch him and realize his cock was hard, something completely unexpected, like missing a step on the stairs or an unexpected shove. It was lunacy, was what it was, because… well. They were _fucking,_ Leonardo thought, and not for the first time either, and even if all other explanations failed – Primo absolutely and categorically would not have been in this position if he wasn’t getting something out of it. 

He inhaled through his nose when Leonardo wrapped his fingers around the hot length of him, satisfied and shocked at the same time. Then his head tipped back against the mattress, baring his throat in the process, and he shoved up and into Leonardo’s fist with a grunt. His hair was a stark contrast to the pristine white bedding, a dark halo spread around his head. It was a deliberate move, Leonardo thought, something wild clawing in his chest, putting himself on display like that, it had to be. 

By now, Leonardo knew what worked for him – knew what worked for the both of them, really, which was something he’d never, ever admit out loud. Primo let go of him and flung one arm over his head, fingers twisting into the sheets. He was looking again, staring up at Leonardo through slitted eyes, rolling his hips into the faltering rhythm with a clear goal in mind, mouth hanging open – bitten red and panting. Leonardo tried to time it perfectly. He was close and had been for some time, and if Primo came first and had too much time to cool down, Leonardo would have to deal with being watched like a hawk afterwards, which was unsettling in a way he couldn’t explain. 

Primo clearly wasn’t thinking about anything now, moments before orgasm, brow furrowed like he was concentrating. God, but there was something about him like this – nothing but need and pleasure and utter abandon, razor-sharp mind dulled down, focused on nothing but _this_ – something that made some animal instinct inside of Leonardo flare up, made him want to fuck until he came, until he couldn’t anymore, until they both had enough. It was a good thing too, because Primo started coming with a breathless noise, quiet even when Leonardo really started to snap his hips, drive him down into the bed. He managed to drag Leonardo right over the edge with him. 

There probably was a poignant metaphor in there somewhere. 

Afterwards, Primo immediately reached for his cigarettes. He offered them wordlessly, holding the open package in Leonardo’s direction. 

“No, thank you,” Leonardo muttered, still trying to catch his breath. He maneuvered himself upright with a groan and leaned back against the headboard.

“Suit yourself.”

“I will.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Primo sat up as well, copying him, far enough apart their shoulders weren’t touching. He was heavy-lidded and relaxed, sprawling in a way he usually didn’t. It wasn’t quite companionable, because there was no such thing with Primo in the room, but Leonardo would have been hard-pressed to call it anything else. 

“Romeo and Juliet, huh?” he said eventually.

“You don’t know it?” Primo said, mocking, eyes comically wide. 

“Oh, shut up,” Leonardo muttered, which earned him an amused sort of noise. “Everybody knows how that one ends, anyway.”

Primo snorted and took a long drag from his cigarette. “Try not to kill yourself. Problem solved”

“Easy as that,” Leonardo said. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then,” Leonardo said sarcastically. He’d have to get up in a bit, he thought. Take a shower, get dressed. Return home. It was past midnight, so there was no hurry, unless Primo got tired of him and decided to kick him out. He hadn’t done that yet, maybe because Leonardo had stated in no uncertain terms how he felt about going home without showering right at the very beginning. 

“On second thought…” he said and Primo _tsked,_ but he wordlessly held out the cigarettes and his lighter again. 

“Thank you,” Leonardo said.

Primo pointedly kept holding out his hand, empty palm facing up, until Leonardo was done lighting a cigarette for himself and handed everything back. 

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” Primo said then, unexpectedly. “Seven o’clock, sharp. Be ready.”

The early hour either meant something very official or something highly illegal. There was no in-between. 

“Where’re we going?” Leonardo said, without much hope of getting a straight answer out of him.

“The Globe,” Primo said, very sarcastically, then added, a lot quieter. “You’ll see.”

It sounded like an admission. 

“Alright,” Leonardo said and smoked his cigarette. 

He supposed he would.

**Author's Note:**

> So the thing is, I started watching _Trust_ way back when it came out, because it looked cool and I like Danny Boyle.  
>   
> Didn’t make it past the first two episodes (because God bless Donald Sutherland, he plays it perfectly, but the Gettys are just a chore to watch and I. Could not. Bring myself to care. Even a little. About their bullshit.) and forgot all about it. Then _The Old Guard_ rolled around and Luca-Marinelli-as-Primo gifsets started popping up everywhere and I was like… “hmmmmmm ok fine. Brendan Fraser and Hillary Swank can stay too, I guess” and gave it another try.  
>   
> Long story short, I now love Leonardo more than my own life, ok.  
>   
> Btw I'm [bakedapplesauce](https://bakedapplesauce.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


End file.
